


Intimacy

by JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite



Series: Healing [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alcohol Withdrawal, Angst, Character Study, Clover is getting bolder the more they spend time together, Developing Relationship, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Flirting, Flustered Qrow, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Qrow and Clover have regular game nights, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, qrow has issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite/pseuds/JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite
Summary: Clover and Qrow spend their day off together.Or a.k.a Qrow can’t stop thinking about Clover and Clover can’t stop wanting Qrow.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & Clover Ebi, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Healing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567423
Comments: 21
Kudos: 350





	Intimacy

Qrow looks at himself in his bathroom mirror.

He sees the dark circles under his eyes, the wane pallor of his skin. How the lines across his features carve paths of exhaustion on his face.

(How he looks like he’s barely holding on, hanging by a thread with bloody fingers and flimsy ambitions.)

He leans forward, grips the edges of his sink with a white-knuckle grip. Clenches his eyes shut as he lets out a shaky sigh.

(He had spent the night hunched over his toilet, gasping and retching what little food he had the day before. Spitting up stomach acid when he didn’t have anything else. Had sat there quaking and shivering as he leaned against the bathtub, wondering when it would end.)

He barks out a laugh, the sound too loud and a little delirious. Scrubs at his hair with his hands.

(Because it’s funny isn’t it? He hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since Argus and yet he’s still paying the fucking consequences from it, his past mistakes hovering over him like some type of ghost. He wonders if this is his atonement, for all the misfortune his semblance has brought onto others.

His punishment for all the pain he has caused to anyone he has ever cared about.)

‘ _Well, hey, don’t beat yourself up about it,_ ’ Clover’s voice echoes in his head.

Qrow wipes at his face.

He’s been doing that a lot, thinking of Clover. Been hanging out with him a lot too. Ever since he had held out that pool cue to Qrow, gentle and confident in that effortless way Clover always was, it was like they had formed some kind of unspoken agreement.

Every night they would meet in the rec room, play whatever game until they were too tired to keep going.

Qrow didn’t intend for it to go this way, he really didn’t. But every time he would wander over to that room, sweating and desperate for a drink, Clover would be leaning against the bar, softly smiling at him like he was expecting Qrow to meet him. Would rest a hand on Qrow’s shoulder and lead him to their entertainment for the night.

And Qrow, god help him, Qrow _likes_ it.

Likes the company and the leisure, how Clover’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he’s really enjoying himself. How playing against him forces Qrow to really concentrate if he even wants a chance, replaces thoughts of gin and vodka with cutting strategies and sneaky hands.

(And sometimes, they would play just to play, no trying to win or trying to make the other lose. Bathed under the warm lights from the ceiling, they would make their own rules with hushed voices and slow breathes.

Would sit close and brush fingertips with each card pass, staying silent but saying so much at the same time.)

And Qrow hasn’t been this content in awhile. He finds himself waking up with a lightness in his step, actually looks forward to the rest of the day. He’s started to take pride in his appearance more too, ruffling his hair and straightening his clothes. Spraying cologne and polishing his shoes.

(He can just see Raven’s reaction to that, curling her lips into a nasty smirk, letting out a harsh chuckle as she cocks an eyebrow.

How she would call him out for preening like a bird as she looked down her nose at him.)

And that’s why he’s here right now, staring at his reflection with a shaving kit at his side.

He’s rather fond of his ‘5 o’clock shadow’ as Robyn put it, has kept it this way for years. But, with all the running around him and his kids have been doing, he hasn’t had time to buy the tools needed to maintain it and it’s grown to look a little scraggly now. He would have to shave it all off to get it back to how it was.

He opens up the shaving kit, picks up the straight razor inside. Frowns as he inspects it in the light.

He’s only used a straight razor once in his life, too impatient for the precise and slow strokes it requires. And with how he is now, vision blurred at the edges from fatigue and hands still wobbly from last night, he’d just be asking to slice his face open.

(He wouldn’t be using this if it weren’t for James. Qrow had made a passing comment on how if he kept this up he would have a beard like him and Jimmy had clasped both his shoulders, looked down at him with an earnest expression. Asked him why he didn’t say anything sooner.

He then told Qrow he was going to get him a shaving kit, started going on about how Atlas provided everyone at the academy everything that they needed, gave only the best of equipment. Jimmy had looked so _proud_ , standing with his hands clasped behind his back, head held high and eyes lit up. Looked at him with a soft smile.

And Qrow didn’t have the heart to refuse him after that.)

Qrow sighs again, puts down the razor. Stares at himself in the mirror with a hand over his mouth.

He’s about to call it quits when he hears a knock on his front door.

Not in the mood to talk to anyone, he scowls in the direction of the door, runs a hand through his hair. Weighs the pros and cons of pretending he’s not there. When there’s another knock right after, this one a little shaper, he rolls his head back with a groan.

“Comin’ comin’,” he mumbles, trudging out of the bathroom.

He walks the short journey to his door and stops in front of it, takes a deep breath. Turns the handle and opens the door.

And, when he sees Clover there, standing in a casual parade rest, Qrow can’t help the short laugh that bursts out of him suddenly.

(Because _of course_ Clover is here. He always seems to be around when Qrow is almost at his worst.)

“Well, _hello_ to you too,” Clover says, looking a little perplexed but still pleased, moving to rest his hands on his hips, “I think that’s probably the happiest you’ve ever been to see me. I don’t know if I should be flattered or not.”

Qrow lightly scoffs, a tiny smile on his face as he crosses his arms.

“ _Eh_ , that was a fluke, lucky charm. Clearly something’s going on with the water in this place,” he says, gesturing with his hand while Clover just raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t believe him, “Anyway, what brings you here to my lovely abode?”

“General Ironwood has ordered teams RWBY and JNR to have a night off,” Clover states, letting his arms hang loosely by his sides, “And naturally, that extends to you as well.”

Qrow nods, running his fingers through his hair.

“The elections,” he confirms and Clover nods as well.

“Gonna be a whole new Atlas tomorrow,” Clover says, tone and face grim, “We’ll have to be prepared.”

There’s a pause while they mull that over, the future of Atlas and the kingdoms after it.

The future of a world with the knowledge of Salem.

“What about you?” Qrow questions, trying for casual as he rolls his shoulders, Clover perking up his eyebrows to show that he’s listening, “All work and no play for the Ace-Ops leader?”

Clover chuckles at that, shaking his head.

“No no, he gave me the night as well,” he says, slightly tilting his head, “That’s why I came over here in the first place. I could’ve just sent you a message.”

“Oh?” Qrow questions, standing a little straighter in surprise, “And what do you need?”

“And why do I need something from you?” Clover retorts back, tone soft and affable as he raises an eyebrow, “I just wanted to see you.”

At that, Qrow feels his mouth go dry, the back of his neck goes hot. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Clover steps forward a little, expression turning into something slightly heated.

“Actually, I was hoping to spend the night with you,” he says, voice low and Qrow can’t help the way his breath hitches in his throat, “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I-I-yeah, sure,” Qrow breathes out, tongue darting out to swipe at his bottom lip, stepping aide to leave the doorway open, “Come on in.”

Clover steps into the room and Qrow closes the door behind him, heart beating in his ears. They both begin walking down the hallway.

“I missed my gaming partner last night, y’know,” Clover starts, tone relaxed as he stops in the living room, “I forgot how lonely it is to play pool by yourself.”

He turns around to look at Qrow with a chuckle, shifting his weight onto one leg.

“I think you just miss winning,” Qrow challenges, rubbing the back of his neck.

Clover shakes his head.

“There you go deflecting again,” he says with a sigh, a rueful smile twisting his lips, “I genuinely enjoy your company Qrow. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

Qrow’s eyes go wide at that, his mouth parts a little. The tips of his ears are on fire. Clover doesn’t break eye contact, slightly tilting his head.

“So tell me, Qrow,” Clover continues, smile shifting into something darker, “How are we spending this night together?”

(Oh god, that’s a loaded question if he’s ever seen one. There’s so many ways Qrow can answer that, from the really vanilla to the downright filthy and he’s pretty sure Clover would take whatever he’d give him, take it without hesitation.

And _fuck_ , isn’t that tempting?)

“I-I don’t know,” Qrow says, and it comes out sounding a bit strangled as he scrubs through his hair, avoids eye contact, “I’ll let you choose, lucky charm.”

There’s a pause where Clover just looks at him, silently assessing him before he takes a step back, his expression becoming less intense. Qrow breathes a little easier.

“Well, what were you going to do before I came here?” Clover asks, hands lightly clasped at his front, an easy smile on his face.

“I _was_ going to shave,” Qrow replies, rubbing a hand across his jaw and feeling the scratch of hair against his fingers, “Ha, well, _attempt_ to would be more like it.”

Clover raises an inquisitive brow and Qrow sighs.

“I got a shaving kit but it’s for a straight razor,” Qrow elaborates, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shrugging, “I’m a disposable razor kind of guy and haven’t touched one that wasn’t for years.”

Clover hums and bobs his head, shifts his feet.

“Then maybe I can help?” He says, grabbing his chin with his hand, a simper on his face.

“And what do ya mean by help?” Qrow replies, a skeptical look on his face.

Clover only winks at him and Qrow’s eyes go wide as the realization hits.

“W-w-wait- you- what- Are you offering to _shave_ me?” Qrow says, tone a little incredulous as he raises his hands, a not quite there laugh stuck in his throat, “Is that what’s really happening right now?”

Clover chuckles and nods, moving his arms to hang relaxed at his sides.

“If you’ll let me,” he says, tilting his head, eyes slightly lidded, “I promise it’ll be worthwhile if you give me a chance.”

(And, Qrow thinks of Clover with his hands holding his face still, so close he can feel his breath on his face. Of Clover staring at him with those piercing green eyes of his, trailing his fingers down his cheeks and neck. Pressing close into Qrow’s personal space, until he can feel the body heat coming off of him in heady waves.

This would be a bad idea. A really _really_ bad idea.)

“Sure, why not?” Qrow says, trying for nonchalant as he hides his sweaty palms in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders, “Just try not to mess up my face, lucky charm.”

“With my hands? You have nothing to worry about,” Clovers says, stepping close to him with a chuckle, a slow smirk pulling at his lips, “I’ll take good care of you, Qrow.”

And Qrow can’t help the full-body shiver he has at those words. Clover’s tongue wets his bottom lip.

(This is an absolutely _horrible_ idea.)

“Now, where’s that shaving kit of yours?” Clover asks, stepping back and casually turning his head to look around the room.

“It’s in the bathroom,” Qrow says, pointing in the direction as his other hand runs through his hair, “On the counter.”

And, as Qrow watches Clover walk out of sight, he wonders what the hell kind of situation he’s gotten himself into.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so it's my personal headcanon that Qrow's nickname for Clover is 'lucky charm'. Try and change my mind.
> 
> So, in this part, Qrow and Clover are a little closer now and that makes Clover want him even more. Qrow is getting a little more comfortable with Clover to start teasing him more. Also, if Clover seems a little pushy at a certain part, I wrote him that way purposely, as i didn't want him to come across as super perfect. He's only human after all. And, Clover backs off when he sees that Qrow is overwhelmed, because my headcanon for him is that while he pushes Qrow to be better and shows his interest in him, he knows when not to overstep. Clover to me is very perceptive. 
> 
> Also, there most likely be another part with the actually shaving, I just felt like it was good to end it here lol


End file.
